


your body starts to sink

by orphan_account



Category: Nancy Drew (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood doesn't have an answer, and it's everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your body starts to sink

**Author's Note:**

> I think I wrote this to make Ande extremely upset? That sounds about right. It's short, but I still liked it.

Nancy isn’t used to blood.

She’s used to ladders and ropes and secret passageways, eerie noises and shapely shadows, strange things that twist behind her until she shines her flashlight on them and they vanish. She’s used to bruises and the occasional burn, and she’s used to chases, and she’s used to being scared. But she isn’t used to blood, and she isn’t used to being so terrified she’s halfway between crying and throwing up, all logic asunder in the back of her head.

Frank’s been hit. 

She’s hearing herself say his name, over and over again, like it’ll jump-start her quick thinking and keen intellect, all the charming wits she’s so proud of. But there’s nothing but white noise that fizzles into the crimson staining her fingers, and all she can really see are a pair of brown eyes staring at her in confusion. And she hears a noise in the distance, some cry of agony, and it’s Joe – Joe, on the communicator, who’d heard the gunshot, who can hear her crying out Frank’s name. 

But it’s only her here, in the dimness and the damp. She doesn’t know exactly where Joe is anymore; she can’t be bothered to remember. The gunman, some panicking suspect who’d fired at the most threatening-looking person in the room, has fled, and she doesn’t even think to have the instinct to chase him, because there shouldn’t be this much blood.

They’re just kids. They’re solving mysteries and pursuing questions and it’s all fun and games even when they’re tied up or knocked out, because it’s just another puzzle to solve. 

But blood doesn’t have an answer. And it’s everywhere. Frank draws in some shallow, horrendous-sounding breath, and props himself up against the wall as he stumbles. She wraps her arms clumsily under his shoulders to hold him up.

“Frank,” she says, again, and again. “Frank, it’s all right; just breathe—”

“Having… a little trouble with that, Nance,” Frank wheezes, half a smile, eyes weary and wet. Nancy’s throat is closing up. “But your support is much appreciated.” 

“We’ll get out,” she’s saying, her voice more raw than she’s ever heard it, and she is so scared; she would take any monster, any curse, over the feel of Frank’s slowing pulse beneath her thumb. “We’ll get you to a hospital, and they’ll have Jell-O…”

“Joe loves the Jell-O,” Frank muses, sounding lightly amused. Nancy presses her forehead against his and wrenches her eyes closed.

“You’ll be just fine,” she sobs out, rocking a little. “You’ll be just fine…”

“I don’t think so, Nancy,” he whispers, and his lips, dry and craggy, skirt over hers without aim or inhibition. “But I’ve had…”

His voice trails out into nothing, and Nancy’s shoulders keep shaking and she keeps chanting, “You’ll be fine; you’ll be fine; you’ll be just fine, and we can go to France like you wanted…” until her voice is too raw for sound.

The noises Joe makes when he finds them twist into her own, and it’s dark down there, and dank, and Nancy will never get used to the blood.


End file.
